


The Tale of the Renaissance Beast

by Ad_Absurdum



Category: 16th Century CE RPF, Christian Lore, History of Catholic Church
Genre: Crack, Gen, Jesuits, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2108706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Absurdum/pseuds/Ad_Absurdum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fairy tale about anthropomorphic historical period and a monk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of the Renaissance Beast

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of my reading a book about St. Ignatius Loyola's life. The book was written in 1910s or '20s, as far as I remember, and I couldn't help sniggering immaturely at the language. Particularly at the author's assertion that "Renaissance stole manliness and strength from many".
> 
> The fic was first posted on FF.net in 2007.

Once upon a time, not very far away, there lived a great and frightening beast.

It came into existence one particularly unpleasant day and in the beginning, It was small and feeble. Gradually, however, It became stronger and It grew and expanded beyond all expectations.

It was called Renaissance.

Renaissance had a truly beastly character – It could influence people's minds and make them do odd things. One day a person was a good, moral citizen and the next, they were expressing convoluted ideas, learning Greek or Latin and turning into a Humanist.

No one could trace and stop Renaissance from performing Its evil tricks because Renaissance had the ability to become anything It wanted. It could become a painting, a poem, a novel, a piece of furniture, a building. It could even turn Itself into a man or a woman.

Clearly, Renaissance was no ordinary beast. People were, however, willing to accept It, since Renaissance could be beautiful, moving and even wise when It wanted to. Unfortunately, It also had an extremely nasty habit of stealing manliness and strength. It was stealing them right, left and centre and many found themselves victims of Renaissance's vile deeds.

Men were left weak and, well... unmanly to the point of wearing frilly frocks and calling one another 'Ginger' or 'Lola'. Women were apparently spared. Evidently Renaissance was not interested in taking their manliness – a fact that causes modern feminist historians to conclude that Renaissance was a very sexist beast. Other historians say that It did steal manliness from women too but this point of view is still under discussion due to difficulties in testing the manliness levels in women.

Anyway, Renaissance was clearly a wicked thief.

But not every man was easily robbed of his manliness (and strength) and Renaissance resented that. It sat sulking in Its cave, moodily wondering why It wasn't able to steal what It wanted from everybody. In spite of Its best efforts, disguises and other underhanded tactics, a lot of men still kept their strength (and manliness sometimes too). And some of them vowed to find Renaissance and kill It to stop the thefts, for they thought the effects to be highly disruptive.

Renaissance was well used to such designs on Its life, though, and didn't worry too much.

The blood-thirsty knights were never sure, however, what to look for: a painting, a building or just a Humanist. Therefore they usually came back from their quests with nothing or fell prey to madness and became Humanists themselves, while Renaissance sniggered quietly.

But then, there was also this young man named Ignatius who, like so many others, swore to find Renaissance and stop It. For three years he travelled the lands in search of the elusive Beast and finally, by some miracle, luck or sheer accident, he found Its cave.

Renaissance sat inside, sulking again that It still couldn't properly influence everyone. It heard Ignatius coming nearer but wasn't overly concerned. After all, It could simply turn into some inanimate object and simply wait till Ignatius got bored.

'Renaissance!' Ignatius presently bellowed. 

The Beast ignored him and deciding to wait, It turned Itself into an artistic ashtray. It didn't quite work, though, because Ignatius, being a very religious man, prayed and sang holy hymns and it was all getting on Renaissance's nerves, frankly. The Beast decided to show Itself. It emerged from Its cave in Its human form and glared at Ignatius.

'What do you want?' It asked.

'Uh...' Ignatius stammered a little. 'I didn't know, sir, the cave was yours. I am actually looking for Renaissance.'

'Yes, that's me. What do you want, I repeat.'

Ignatius goggled a bit at the figure which, to his eyes, appeared entirely human and became suspicious.

'No,' he declared, 'you're not. You don't look like It.'

Renaissance was insulted. How this feeble being dared to decide what looked like Renaissance and what didn't. The Beast sniffed haughtily, turned Itself into a cathedral, then into a musical composition, then back into human, whereupon It struck a pose and said a couple of particularly Humanistically-sounding maxims.

'Well?' Renaissance lifted one disdainful eyebrow.

For some time Ignatius only gaped but then he remembered his manners and apologised for being of such a small faith.

'Never mind,' Renaissance grunted and once again asked Ignatius about his intentions.

'I want to stop you from stealing manliness and strength from people,' the young man announced proudly.

'Aha!' Renaissance shouted. 'I knew it. You want to kill me.'

'No no, why should I want that?' Ignatius seemed mildly horrified by the suggestion. 'I only want to talk and perhaps pray a bit and sing some hymns so that, you know, you change your ways.'

'No singing!' Renaissance shot him a nasty look. 'And no praying. And anyway, what would you possibly want to talk about?'

Ignatius's eyes sparkled at the chance of playing psychotherapist.

'Oh, you know, for example, why you feel the need to rob people of the essential parts of their characters. Or why you are such a recluse. Things like that.' Ignatius smiled encouragingly.

Renaissance eyed him with suspicion. 'Why would I want to talk about _things like that_ ? I don't even know who you are.'

'Oh,' Ignatius flushed slightly, realising he forgot his manners again. 'My name is Ignatius and—'

'Hey, I know,' Renaissance interrupted him. 'You were a soldier and then a cannonball shattered your leg and now you're a monk. But back then you were the darling of your men and favourite with all.[1]' Here Renaissance sniggered.

'Why yes, that's right,' Ignatius beamed, not bothering to acknowledge the very obvious snigger.

The Beast sniggered some more. Ignatius frowned then cleared his throat and said in his best counselling voice, 'So, why don't you tell me about your problem, now?'

Renaissance glared. Then It threw Its hands up in exasperation. 'All right, fine. You know why I do all these things? 'Cos everybody thinks I'm just some fake, some poor imitation of Antiquity and have nothing of my own to say,' Renaissance's chin wobbled slightly. 'And... and I think nobody likes me, really.' It snivelled miserably.

Ignatius got a bit teary-eyed himself. He felt sorry for the poor Renaissance and wanted to make It feel better, It looked so pathetically sad.

'Aww, you poor thing,' Ignatius cooed and gave the Beast (which didn't look very beastly right now and was, in fact, rather easy on the eye) a supportive hug.

'Yeah,' Renaissance sniffed into Ignatius's shoulder. 'I'm not really bad, you know. Or anything.'

'Yes, I know,' the young man patted Renaissance's back. 'Would you like some tea? I can make us a pot of Assam and we'll sit and talk and have some crumpets, hmm?'

'Okay.' Renaissance smiled slightly and removed Itself from the comforting embrace.

In the end, Renaissance didn't steal Ignatius's manliness, nor his strength. Ignatius just had to sleep for a while to regain it but that, dear reader, is a tale for another time.

**Author's Note:**

> [1] – the sentence taken directly from the book.


End file.
